


Aftermath

by flightinflame



Category: X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies)
Genre: Bottom Erik Lehnsherr, Canon Disabled Character, Dom/sub Undertones, M/M, Post X-Men: First Class, Reunion Sex, Telepathy, Top Charles Xavier
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-01
Updated: 2019-07-01
Packaged: 2020-06-02 03:37:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19433134
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flightinflame/pseuds/flightinflame
Summary: After the events of X-Men First Class, Erik is injured and returns to the one place he knows he will be safe. Plagued by nightmares, he finds himself seeking sanctuary in Charles's bed, even when he isn't sure where they stand. He expects that everything will be different now - but Charles is willing to prove him wrong.





	Aftermath

**Author's Note:**

> Huge thanks to Triffidsandcuckoos for betaing this! I adore these two.

Erik couldn't sleep. That wasn't unusual - not since the camps. Normally he could distract himself but, back here, surrounded by what could have been, it was hard. He knew he should have been grateful: Charles welcoming him back without comment, save for "your room is still free". As if things were still the same; as if he hadn't appeared in the middle of the night, half dead and helpless, running cringing to the sanctuary he had rejected and the man he had betrayed.

Charles hadn't been smug or superior for once. Hadn't needed to be. They both knew what Erik's return meant. Even Hank had bit down on the comments he was clearly dying to make as he'd dressed Erik's injuries. 

For a few days he'd just focussed on recovery. Books had appeared, dropped off by polite pupils who left after a moment. He knew Charles was selecting them. No one else knew him that well. 

Which was why he found himself lingering outside Charles's door late at night. Before, it would have been easy to walk in. They'd known each other inside out. But he didn't know where they stood now. Or, well, where he stood, and Charles sat because Erik had lost control. He wanted to knock, but he couldn't. 

He turned away, and his body caught, like a hiccup. 

_No_.

His arm raised and the lock of the door clicked open, then the door swung away from him. Charles looked at him from the bed. 

"You're meant to ask," Erik muttered, anger easy to reach, hiding the gratitude that flooded him.

"My friend, if you didn't want me to let you in, perhaps you shouldn't loom outside my door thinking so loudly." And there was that smirk he'd missed. Charles shrugged, indicating the space next to him. For a moment, Erik thought of turning away out of spite, but then stepped forwards.

Of course, once he was through the doorway, his confidence slipped a little bit. It had been easy before, when all their ideals and thoughts were without consequences. It was harder when the consequence of his actions lay before him. He could feel himself spiralling, unsettled and unsure. The room seemed to spin for a moment.

 _Erik._ His eyes snapped to the figure on the bed, and Charles smiled at him, almost fond.  
"Erik, I didn't invite you inside to continue panicking silently within your own mind."

"I..." He hesitated, and Charles sat up a little straighter, manoeuvring himself with practised skill so that he was resting against the headboard, propped up on pillows.

"Tell me what you need, my friend," Charles murmured. Erik only just held in the urge to roll his eyes as he stepped a little closer. He suspected at points that Charles only asked him to say it because he was enough of a bastard to want to hear him say it.

"You're the telepath."

"Erik. I hear people's thoughts often enough to know that they are not always reflections of what they want. If you want something from me, I want to hear you ask for it," Charles rationalised, as clear and in control as ever.

Erik took a deep breath, annoyance and uncertainty warring within him. He knew he harboured thoughts that Charles knew of, thoughts that Charles could pull forwards to prove his point, but he didn't do that. Because Charles always insisted on being the better person; because Charles was so fucking sure of himself at points that Erik could strangle him. 

_I do hope that proves my case_.

"What?" Erik jerked back to focus, looking over at Charles in confusion.

"Well, Erik, if your plans for tonight involve strangling me then this evening will be much less fun for either of us than I had hoped, and I do hate to disturb Hank or Raven when I've spent so much of this evening trying to reassure them that they have nothing to fear by your presence."

"You know I didn't mean it, Charles."

"Then you know why I ask you to be honest with me and give voice to your thoughts," Charles continued. "Now, you woke me up with thinking so loudly. What is it you came to ask for?"

Erik hesitated, feeling foolish, and only the knowledge that Charles already knew stopped him from making a break for the door.

"I wondered if... If I could sit with you a little while. I can't sleep, and if I can't sleep, I won't get better. Your bed is the one place that...I've never found sleeping a challenge."

Charles shuffled himself over on the bed, leaving space to his left for Erik. Erik tried not to look, but when Charles drew the covers back he found himself climbing in beside him. He hesitated, and Charles reached out, resting an arm on his shoulder. He paused, only for a moment, before allowing Charles to guide him closer, his eyes fluttering shut as Charles stroked his fingers through his hair.

"You are always welcome here, Erik. No matter what comes between us, I'm never going to begrudge you the security you need to sleep."

Erik nodded, yawning slightly.

"Of course, I wasn't sure this was why you'd come here," Charles said conversationally. _I wasn't sure if you were revisiting old times._ The words were followed by a flood of images that made Erik feel rather more awake than he had been a moment before. After a few seconds they vanished, and he looked to Charles in shock.

"But your injury - " he began, and Charles shook his head.

"Erik. We are both intelligent men, and I highly doubt something like this is going to stop us. What will, for now, is the fact you sought me out seeking sanctuary and rest. When you are recovered...but for now, let me take care of you like this."

Erik considered protesting, but Charles was right. He had come here seeking somewhere he knew he would be safe. That was why he'd returned to Westchester, even after the fight: there was nowhere else in the world for him save by Charles's side. Charles's touch soothed him and he could feel Charles's presence in his mind - hated that he had ever cut himself off from either.

But those thoughts, and Charles's comments about old times, were for another day. For now, Erik allowed himself to relax, feeling Charles's heartbeat, strong as it ever was, soothing him to sleep.

***

Erik woke early, seeing how the morning light played across Charles's sleeping form. He looked so peaceful, so calm, that for a little while Erik could allow himself to pretend that nothing had happened. He had missed this, more than he could say, and yet he knew he couldn't indulge for long. After a few moments, committing every curl of Charles's hair to memory, he began to slip away. His leg had ended up over Charles's in the night and he pulled away carefully, not wanting to jolt him or cause damage.

"Erik. The injury is healed. You bumping into me won't make things worse," Charles mumbled, half into the pillow. Erik swallowed, glancing towards the door. They'd left it unlocked last night, and he stood up, hoping he could slip away before Charles was fully awake.

"My friend, would you fetch some breakfast?" Charles asked calmly. It wasn't a demand, it was a request, and all the more undeniable for it. Erik considered his options, and Charles cleared his throat. "If you could just bring it back, rather than float it in - I would appreciate the company."

There was no reason to refuse and Charles knew it. Erik glared at him for a moment, thinking loudly about how obnoxious Charles was. Charles didn't rise to the bait, simply smiling serenely. Erik snorted and got to his feet. He was silent as he walked outside, heading to the grounds.

He needed to walk, to think, to work out what he was doing next. It was hard, when he could see the looming shape of the satellite dish in the distance, full of memories. He missed Charles. Missed what they had shared, but he'd been driven by anger and his need for revenge, and they wouldn't get back what they'd lost.

 _Bring some food for yourself too, please._ Charles's voice was soft, but he could feel the concern there. Erik stayed for a few more moments gazing across the grounds, wondering what could have happened, the life that they could have lived. Then he pulled himself away, heading to the kitchen.

Fortunately, it was deserted. He didn't particularly want to be interrogated as to what he was doing leaving Charles's bedroom early in the morning. The whispering before had been irritating enough, but that was nothing compared to what would happen if Raven or one of the others caught him today. A wave of his hand summoned a metal tray and he carefully loaded it with a few pastries, two cups of coffee, and a glass of water. 

Once, he would have floated the tray back to Charles, walking behind it. Today, he hesitated and then grasped the tray in his hands, carrying it back.

He allowed the tray to hover when he knocked on Charles's door.

 _I won't be long,_ Charles answered, followed a minute or two later by calling out,   
"You can come in."

Erik unlocked the door, carrying the tray over to Charles's bedside table. Charles was sat in bed, but the door to the bathroom was slightly open.

"You can close that," Charles said, and Erik did so without thinking, feeling again Charles's presence against his mind. He wasn't searching, wasn't digging into his memories, just brushing against Erik's thoughts. It felt almost like holding hands. "Thank you."

"For breakfast?"

_For coming back._

_I couldn't have you miss breakfast._

Charles smiled, reaching out to pick up his cup of coffee, taking a sip. "You know that isn't what I meant." He handed Erik a coffee of his own, signalling for him to sit down on the bed. "But this morning, were you trying to leave without saying goodbye?"

"I didn't want to disturb you, Charles. Mornings have never been - "  
"You were hiding," Charles said more firmly. "You can't hide that from me, I know you better than that."

"I..." Erik hesitated, reaching for one of the forks, calling it to him so that he could fidget with it. Charles said nothing, giving him time to think of an answer. Erik considered saying an answer in his mind, but Charles deserved to hear this out loud. "I didn't want to... I miss what we had before. I stand by the choices I made, but... I regret what it cost."

"It needn't have cost as much as you think," Charles answered, reaching for his food and offering a pastry towards Erik. "I always knew you were going to kill him when you got the chance. And, my friend, I gave you that chance. I held him for you - "

"And it cost you - "

"It cost me my dearest friend, I believed. Perhaps, we will find that this isn't the case." Charles reached to brush his hand against Erik's shoulder. "You don't need to be strong."

Erik tensed at that, not knowing what answer he could give. He had always had to be strong - Charles knew that. But he understood. There had been times, before they had parted ways, that he had allowed Charles beneath his armour. Times when Charles had allowed him, for a few fragile moments, to place aside the walls he had built up. He wasn't sure now, how any of this would work. Charles looked into his eyes, a fond smile on his lips, and Erik understood.

Charles's hand rested against his shoulder, until he bowed his head slightly, and the touch slid to the back of his neck, thumb rubbing in circles against the skin. He allowed himself to breathe, slowly, focusing on that one point of contact.

"There..." Charles murmured, half to himself. "Erik, darling, do you think you could move around the bed and lay beside me?"

Erik nodded, but stayed where he was a few moments longer, reluctant to break the contact.  
 _I'll take care of you._ Charles promised, and Erik got to his feet a little uncertainly, sending the fork back to the tray as he tried to steady himself. He always hated this, when it felt almost as though he was in free fall. A moment later Charles's grip on his mind tightened, just a little. Enough to hold him, but not so much he couldn't push him out if he'd needed to. 

He made his way around the bed, as Charles pulled aside the blankets. He sat down.

"The door's unlocked still. May I?" Charles asked, and Erik nodded, feeling Charles reaching through him. His hand raised and the door clicked shut. Charles smiled, and then rolled his eyes slightly at how Erik was sitting, his back straight. 

"You look tense..." Charles said softly.

"I don't know what you're planning," Erik muttered, and Charles reached out, guiding Erik against his shoulder.

 _I promise I will look after you, my friend,_ Charles reassured, his hands brushing through Erik's hair, and Erik tried to calm himself, to take slow breaths and not acknowledge the tenderness there. Charles was the only one who ever touched him like this, who acted as though he was something fragile.

"Not fragile," Charles corrected, his hand returning to the back of Erik's neck and squeezing softly. "But something precious. You give me the chance to care for you, and that is a gift that I could not waste."

Erik hesitated for a moment, before he tilted his head up, and Charles leaned down. The kiss wasn't as passionate as some they had shared, wasn't bruising. It was like acceptance, like being home, and Erik felt some of the tension of the past months bleeding from him.

As the kiss continued, Charles took the lead, his hands running across Erik's shoulders, down across his arms. The kiss became more heated as Charles's hands ran down his sides, and Erik moaned into Charles’s mouth. It took him a moment to pull away, as Charles's fingers brushed underneath his shirt, pushing the fabric up.

"How are we going to - "

 _Trust me,_ Charles answered, the only order he had given so far. It was the only order he ever gave directly - everything else was always couched within a request or a suggestion, but that was always put bluntly. They both knew Erik wouldn't say no to that particular request. 

"I've missed you," Charles told him gently. "I missed this, of course I did. Dreamed of being alone with you, but I missed you more." He was leaning in again, stealing another kiss that Erik gladly gave him, and then Charles was undoing Erik's nightshirt, fingers and mouth exploring the skin exposed. 

Erik knew, logically, that he was scarred. That a lifetime of combat had left its signs - not like Charles, smooth and unmarked, aside from what he had done.

"You look wonderful." The words were spoken firmly, and a moment later he felt Charles inside his mind, guiding his vision until he saw himself as Charles saw him, Charles's emotions flowing through them - there was a possessiveness there, but also an awe, a want, and an admiration. He gasped, softly, when Charles pulled back from his mind.

He looked at Charles, trying to call him back there, his presence a comfort. It took a moment, but then Charles was in his thoughts again.

 _How can we do this?_ he asked.

"You've never had much trouble before," Charles answered out loud, and Erik laughed softly, reaching to remove Charles's shirt. He didn't look different from the last time Erik had seen him. He hesitated at the man's pants, running his fingers along the line of them, feeling a brush of metal beside the fabric.

"I can't feel that," Charles told him. "I mean, I feel your touch through your mind, but not... The sensation ends here..." His hands closed over Erik's, easing them up a couple of inches. "I can feel that."

Erik nodded, lowering his head to kiss Charles's neck, trying to work out what to do with that information. He ran his hand down Charles's side, moving to look at him and quirking an eyebrow.

"Just because I can't feel you touching me doesn't stop me thinking about it," Charles pointed out. "I've always had a visual imagination, and even if I can't feel it - " His eyes fluttered, and Erik moaned as a wave of desire hit him, seeing Charles's memories. He whined softly as Charles's hands reached for him. Charles's memories had narrowed, and he saw himself in them, moaning as he straddled Charles, the other man rocking up into him over his desk, the doors hastily locked by Erik's hand.

Charles's hand gripped Erik's own. 

"I would like to see you like that again, if you think you can manage it." He leaned in for another kiss, and as Erik nipped at his lips he began to finish undressing him, his fingers brushing Erik's skin as it was revealed. Erik moaned against his mouth as Charles's hand found his cock, stroking firmly. 

"Now...do you think you can get yourself ready for me?" Charles asked. "I left a tin of vaseline - "

Erik closed his eyes, feeling for it, pulling the tin to himself and opening it, as Charles watched him. Charles opened his mouth, as though about to say something, then shook his head.

"Hmm?"

"You... You look _stunning_ , Erik." Charles admitted, his tongue brushing against his lip as Erik began to prepare himself. "I wasn't sure you were coming back."

"I...wasn't sure you'd let me."

"You always have a place here at my side..." Charles told him, not looking away as he lifted himself awkwardly. Erik realised then that there were safety pins attached to Charles's pyjama bottoms and underwear. He laughed softly, but carefully guided the fabric down even as he pressed his fingers into himself.

"Perfect," Charles whispered, mostly to himself. He was always so quick to praise, so open with his emotions, that Erik never really knew how to respond. But Charles was proud of him, and for now he could forget about everything outside this room. Charles reached for him and Erik went to him, kneeling so that the tip of Charles's cock was brushing against his entrance. His arms rested against Charles's shoulders, as one of Charles's hands caressed patterns across his back, and the other began to stroke him.

It took a few attempts to fall into a rhythm, but he focused on that, on Charles, on the way his eyes were full with ecstasy as he moaned. _Good so good mine yes good brilliant..._ An avalanche of thoughts flooded him before Charles leaned in for a kiss, and for a moment he saw himself through Charles's eyes. Charles's hand slid from Erik's back to his hip, guiding him to the pace he wanted. He moaned, crying out for Charles, feeling Charles crying out for him.

Orgasm swept through him, and Charles moaned, gripping his hip tighter for a moment before releasing him.

"Will you lie with me?" Charles asked, voice gentle. Part of Erik wanted to run away, to put enough distance between them that he didn't hurt Charles. But he could never deny the other man, not when he asked. He pulled away and Charles shuffled awkwardly until he was lying down, then held out his arms. Erik lay down again, Charles's hand resting on the back of his neck.

"You're brilliant," Charles told him, before they fell into comfortable silence. Erik curled closer, his head resting on Charles's chest, tracing patterns at the point where Charles said sensation ended.


End file.
